Observations of a Timid Onlooker
by WhirledPeace
Summary: ItaDei, yaoi. Itachi muses on what exactly he is, and what exactly Deidara is. Some things can be said, but others, you just have to know by observing. Rated T for it being two guys engaging in homo man LOVE, not sex.


A/N: This is just a short story dedicated to black55widow!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.

* * *

Itachi surveyed the room. He had learned to tell a lot about a person by their room. So what did this mean? So clean, so utterly clean it was almost sterile. The bed covers were pulled taught and perfect, no wrinkles. The closet door was closed. Nothing was left out to give any inclination to interests, except a bland, dark covered book whose title was something no one would read for pleasure. And this book sat on the nightstand, and atop it sat a pair of spectacles. This room could be a hotel room with the amount it showed about the owner.

The owner who was currently trying to find clues as to his own identity in his room. Uchiha Itachi. Prodigy of Konoha, the murderer of his own clan, and the bearer of a mind so complex, no one ever had any inclination towards what he was thinking. Itachi sighed, sitting on his plain, dark sheets. The walls were so clean they left nothing to hold his gaze more than the second he gave it. The ceiling was bland and clean. Everything was so perfect, it was like a world without friction. Too smooth.

The door flew open and banged into the wall. There stood Deidara, looking pissed. "You come home and don't tell me?" he cried. "Oh, sure, why don't I just go mope in my room, un! No one has been waiting for me to come back, yeah! Is that how you think, yeah?" Deidara stormed over. He didn't have a shirt, and his tan, sweaty skin radiated even in the dull light. His hair was golden, like a beacon in the dark. His eyes, though now glaring, were the clearest blue of the soft, open sea. He was standing before Itachi in all his radiance, arms crossed over his chest. Itachi shook his head slowly.

"No, I don't think with 'un' after every sentence," he replied. Deidara threw up his hands.

"For the love of fuck, un," he grumbled. "Are you trying to send me a message, huh? Trying to tell me something, un?" Itachi said nothing. Deidara glared. "If you're trying to get rid of me, you'll have to try harder, yeah." Deidara leaned down, and poked Itachi's nose. "I know you're a prodigy and shit, but you've got to work on your people skills, yeah. Now get your ass up and come train with me, hmm." Without even waiting for Itachi to get up, Deidara grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the room.

"But I've just come back from a mission," Itachi argued, though he wasn't angry. Deidara stopped, and turned, staring at Itachi in the middle of the hall.

"Yeah, un? So? Maybe I'll actually beat you, hmm." Deidara crossed his arms. "So are you going to man up and kiss me, or am I going to have to do it myself, un?" Itachi shook his head and leaned forward, pecking Deidara on the lips. "I said man up, bitch," Deidara snapped, grabbing Itachi's hair and crashing their mouths together. Itachi wrapped his arms around Deidara's waist, pulling their bodies together. Once the kiss ended, Deidara was grinning. "There. That's better, yeah. Now come on, I was in the middle of training when you decided to not come and find me, un." Deidara dragged Itachi out to the private training ground behind the base.

"Now you know I won't go easy on you," Itachi said, taking up a beginning stance. Deidara stuck out all three visible tongues.

"You never do, un."

* * *

They lay in a sweaty heap on Itachi's bed, sheets tangled between their bodies. Deidara was panting still, and Itachi leaned over and kissed his forehead. "I'm guessing it was good for you?" he asked. Deidara grinned and nodded eagerly.

"Yup, un! And you, Mr. Frigid, yeah?" Itachi let a rare smile turn his lips.

"Of course." They lay together in the quiet for a long minute. Finally, Deidara got up and stretched.

"Damn, I'll be feeling you for a while, un," he said, picking up his hastily discarded clothes. "Anyway, I've got shit to do, yeah. See you around." And he left. Itachi sighed. He knew Deidara had attachment issues about sleeping in the same bed. Not since Sasori had he actually fallen asleep with anyone. Slowly, he dragged his pleasantly tired body from his bed, got dressed, and made his bed. Perfectly.

* * *

Itachi surveyed the room. Clay was stuck to the carpet in various spots, and some suspicious stains were splattered randomly around as well. There was a crack in the ceiling. Whenever asked about it, Deidara just grinned maniacally. The bed was not only unmade, but askew at a totally arbitrary angle that wasn't even against the wall. There was a work bench that routinely migrated, with clay utensils and clay strewn about it. As for the closet, the door was permanently jammed open with a questionable object of uncertain origin, and clothes, clay, and weapons spilled forth from the dark abyss. To Itachi, it was a mess. To Deidara, it was perfectly organized. He knew where everything was, and it was wherever he would need it.

"You're a slob," Itachi said.

"Your face, un," Deidara replied, not turning from his work bench. Itachi shook his head.

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing," he said.

"Oh? Slob doesn't necessarily have a good meaning, yeah." Deidara held up a small bird, frowning. Itachi kicked a pair of boxers.

"Messy people misplace papers. Slobs leave their underwear out." Deidara shot Itachi a glare.

"Well, no one is really as anal as you are about your room, un," he replied. "And if you don't stop, I'm sending this bird over to your stupid room and showing you how messy a room can be, un." Itachi smiled slightly.

"Are you happy with that one?"

"No, un." Deidara squashed it. He then began molding again. "You like watching me work, hmm?"

"Somewhat." Itachi sat on the bed. "I… enjoy being in your room."

"Even though I'm a slob, un?"

"Yes. Even though you're a slob." Deidara looked up and smiled.

"You know, you could spend more time in here…"

"Really?"

"Yeah, un." Deidara was smiling shyly now. Itachi got up and leaned over Deidara, kissing him sweetly on the lips.

"I'd like that," he said.

* * *

Itachi sat in his void. It was so perfect and clean, he could feel the very air constricting around him. He was the only thing that didn't fit. He was impure and dirty. He didn't belong in here. But he couldn't bring himself to touch anything. Everything was too pure, too perfect. So much so it was suffocating.

But the door would away s burst open; there was beginning to be a mark on the wall where the handle hit. And light would pour in. And there would stand a man who had so much vibrancy and colour, only he could brighten up Itachi's world.

And that was what Itachi lived for.


End file.
